Le Quan Ninh – Exaltatio Utrusque Mundi (with Frederic Blondy) & Le Ventre Negatif

Le Quan Ninh is a Vietnamese percussionist whose specializes in the "surrounded bass drum." He tickles and tortures his ax with a wide variety of both household and otherworldly implements to produce an incredible array of sounds from something that was once used exclusively for the low- or un-pitched boom boom boom. (In those days, people swirled marbles around their drum heads only at home for fun.) His palette is broad and his sensitivity, dexterity and expressiveness are now well known around e-ai circles. I’m particularly fond of his masterful work with Gunter Muller on La Voyelle Liquide. On Exaltatio Utrusque Mundi, he is teamed with rising-star avant-garde pianist Frederic Blondy. Together they weave a very satisfying pointillistic web that, in its early stages, brings to mind Boulez’s piano sonatas and Structures. Like La Voyelle, it’s busy, jittery, splashy and electrifying. The improvising pianist of whom Blondy reminds me most is fellow Boulezian Steve Lantner, but the Blondy work I’ve heard may be a bit less uncompromisingly serioso than Lantner’s. With Blondy, there’s a bit of high-energy Borah Bergman-style skittering mixed in with the kontra-punkte. Percussionist and pianist mesh beautifully here, and the disc is a fine one. As you are engulfed by this music, you’re sure to say (at least seven times) "How the hell did they do that?" The results range from anxious burbles and jangles to something that sounds (on "Water Aether") like a softly singing ensemble of sirens and baby whales. Best of all is the tender, Feldmanesque final track, with its lingering single tones, ominous growls and questioning, two-tone bell chords. Gorgeous.

Le Ventre Negatif is a solo Ninh outing that is quieter and less busy than the duo with Blondy. Ninh’s playing on this one is more akin to his work with Joelle Leandre on their (to me also somewhat disappointing) recording of Cage’s "Ryoanji." I want to be generous to this disc, especially since I’m delighted to see the return of an active Meniscus label, but I have to admit that I don’t find Le Ventre Negatif terribly engaging. It may be that solo percussion works are just not my thing (even Feldman’s famous "King of Denmark" never really floated my boat). I notice my mind wandering into the dreaded non-musical avenues of work and family errands as Ninh pages through his menu of scratches, rumbles and thumps. If this was the (perhaps Zen inspired?) intention here, the disc succeeds with me quite well. In my own case, however, such "anti-reveries" are generally available without any help from my stereo. In any case, while Ninh’s considerable prowess is in evidence here and there are many lovely and improbable sounds, I can’t find the thread or flow of any of the five cuts. As indicated, however, I may just not be among the intended listeners of Le Ventre Negatif. Certainly Ninh completists and solo percussion aficionados will want this release.